Where Wolves Fear to Prey
by lathebananaman
Summary: Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak are going into their freshman year of high school. Neither knows what he is getting into and, to each, the other is invisible. All this soon changes when Castiel stumbles in on something that will change their dynamics forever. Soon, they're both wondering just how they will make it through these four years. Rated T but may go up. Destiel.
1. I

**Chapter One is a go! Thanks so much to my amazing beta. Let me know what you guys think? Yeah I know this whole thing is freaking overdone... But there's one thing in the subplot that I wanted to do.  
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**_Warning:_ This story will be triggering for some in later chapters. There will be mentions/depictions of physical abuse, mental abuse, bullying, and possibly some other triggering events. Warnings will be at the top of such chapters. Please do not read if it's not in your best interest. Stay safe.  
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**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, I would write a Slenderman episode. It's on the Tumblr checklist. Obviously I do not own Supernatural.**

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_beep beep beep_

Dean Winchester groaned, rolling over and tugging his pillow over his head to block out the noise. He couldn't understand where the beeping was coming from or why something so shrill and obnoxious was invading his sleep. He just wished it would stop so he could get back to dreaming. Dreams were far better than reality, after all.

_beep beep beep_

Grumbling, the fourteen-year-old flipped back towards the noise, one arm venturing from the warm sanctum that was his blanket. His arm flopped about until it found the offending item: an antique alarm clock that hadn't been seen in abundance since the thirties, at least.

_bee-_

At last, the noise stopped. Perhaps now he could get back to that dream. Surely, the world could do without him for a few more minutes?

"Dean," came a boy's pre-pubescent voice, "Wake up! We have school today, you know, and if you miss your bus you'll have to walk and then you'll be late."

The older boy groaned as he cracked open an eyelid. He open and closed it slowly until his sight was used to the sudden brightness.

"School? Sammy, what're you talking about, school's not for another week at least."

Sam laughed, "No, it's today, I triple checked. Come on, I made breakfast!"

Breakfast was all Dean needed to hear - he was out of bed in an instant, tugging a pair of jeans from the floor over his boxers. "What'd you make? It'd better not be more of your rabbit food crap," he bit, glaring at the younger boy who was now perched on the edge of Dean's recently occupied and very inviting bed.

"Our special today is Gourmet Cheerios in a 2% milk sauce with coffee to drink, sir," Sam grinned back, rolling his eyes. "What did you expect, an omelet?"

"Hilarious; you should be a comedian. Did you eat, then?"

"Yeah, and you better hurry and eat too – your bus comes in twenty minutes. You're lucky I was nice and made us both lunch."

Dean's heart clenched as he smiled and thanked his brother. The boy was too sweet for his own good, and Dean just couldn't be the one to break it to him that he normally skipped lunch to make the food last just a little longer. It was a miracle that Sam hadn't found out yet, anyways, so he would go with the charade just this once. He'd have to start setting his alarm earlier, if Sammy was going to wake up hours before the middle school's busses even came.

All this flew through Dean's mind as he shuffled from their room to the kitchen at the other end of the hallway. His brother was still jabbering away about how "super excited" he was to finally start sixth grade and "have _lockers." _The glee in his tone was starting to affect the volume of his words, however, and Dean found himself getting more and more on edge. The noise rose and rose until finally, Dean couldn't take it anymore.

"Sam, shut _up,"_ he snapped.

The younger boy choked off mid-sentence. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Dean sighed, "Don't apologize, Sammy, you shouldn't have to. I just didn't want you waking Dad; you know how he is in the morning."

"It's okay." The younger boy's eyes flickered to the stove's digital clock, "You should go; the bus will be at the corner in a few minutes."

"You'll be okay here with Dad? 'Cause I can skip homeroom if you want me to stay and make sure things go okay."

"I'll be _fine,_ Dean; go. I'll call you if anything happens and I'll see you after school. Just try not to get in trouble on your first day because I won't have anywhere to go during your detention."

"Yeah I know kid, say hi to Jo for me. Remember, if you have trouble finding your classes or something, she'll help you. See you later; I'd better leave."

With that, Dean strode out the door, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as he passed its perch.

The school day started out slow and monotonous for Dean. He knew no one in Lawrence High, his only friends being a year or two younger, or having moved away. Classes ticked by with teacher after droning teacher, each one explaining the course's syllabus in great detail. Students chattered quietly through each lecture, providing a soft, lazy hum that had him nearly falling asleep a few times. By the time his first three classes were over and lunch rolled around, Dean was completely done with school. Still, remembering his promise, he grabbed the brown paper bag Sammy had made up for him from his locker, heading to the Commons. Each table hosted at least one group by the time he arrived, so he slumped into a chair across from a seemingly companionless girl wearing a Star Trek shirt. She gave him a curious look before redirecting her attention back into her novel.

Dean's interest in his silent companion spiked when he saw the familiar cover. "Dude, is that _The Hobbit_?"

The girl regarded him warily once more from behind the pages. Her eyes seemed to stare right into his soul, evaluating him for everything he was worth before she finally set the book down. "Yeah, it's kind of my favorite book. I take it you like Tolkien?"

"Who doesn't love Tolkien?" Dean retorted, cracking a grin.

The girl nodded in approval, sticking out a hand to shake. "Charlie Bradbury; freshman, computer whiz, and fangirl extraordinaire. You are?"

"Dean Winchester; also a freshman. We didn't go to the same middle school, did we? I thought I knew just about everyone in my grade."

"Nah, my family just moved here from Michigan, don't worry. I take it most of the kids here went to the same junior high?"

"Yeah, we did. Most of them are miserable dickheads so it's not like you missed out on much. What was Michigan like? Do you miss it?"

"I moved from one sleepy Midwestern to another and there's not much difference. The kids at my old school were idiots, too. I had only a few loose friends who were more intimidated by me than anything, so no, I don't miss it. You've never moved?"

"No. We moved across town once, but it's not like I switched schools or anything so not much changed."

They lapsed into silence once again. Dean was tempted to ask more questions, but he had just met this girl and didn't want to seem pesky. As it turns out, he never got the chance, for just as he opened his mouth, Charlie's face brightened and she waved to someone behind him. A short, pimply boy with light brown hair and the brightest blue eyes Dean had ever seen slid into another chair at their table like the missing piece of their triangle.

"Hey, Charlie," the boy grinned. The smile fell as he noticed Dean. His accent hinted at something Southern that the other boy couldn't quite place. "Who's this?"

Dean cleared his throat, "I'm Dean, what's your name?"

"Benny Lafitte. Tell me, Dean – 'cause you don't seem the type to hang around people like us – why are you here?"

"Benny-" Charlie started.

Dean cut her off. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, it's just that you give off this jock vibe, like you should be playing football or baseball, you know?"

"I don't do sports," the other boy grimaced. "I used to go to the shooting range with my dad sometimes, but actual competitive sports aren't worth it to me. If you must know, I'm here because my best friend is an eighth-grader and I don't have any friends my age. I'm here because my little brother woke up before me and packed me a lunch and now I actually have to eat instead of studying in the library. Lastly, I'm here because all the other tables were occupied and Charlie looked the least likely to treat me like scum, plus she's wearing a cool shirt."

A myriad of emotions flickered across Benny's face like Claymation, ranging from embarrassment to surprise and settling on a satisfied smile. "Sorry to push your buttons like that, brother. I just wanted to be sure you weren't messing with us. Welcome to the Island of Misfit Toys."

Charlie pursed her lips, but the quiver at the edges suggested that she was holding back laughter. "That wasn't very nice, Benny. Before you showed up – ten minutes late, I might add – Dean and I were talking about Tolkien and his genius. I'd already figured out that he was cool; do you really think I would let some douche in to fuck with us?"

"Nah, of course not, Char. I wanted to see what pretty boy here is made of, that's all. Not everyone has Sherlock-esque deduction skills like you do. I bet you already figured out his life story."

"Wait, you could do that?" Dean asked, tensing. His life wasn't that bad, but he didn't want the first person he spoke to at this school to know everything about him. He couldn't possibly be that transparent.

"Not really," the girl laughed. "I mean, from what you've told me I've figured out that you like good literature, you're a Trekkie, and you don't normally eat lunch. From your appearance I can figure that you probably woke up late – your shirt is on backwards – and didn't go to sleep until late last night, probably due to stress, judging by the bags under your eyes. That stress could be caused by anything, but my guess is family drama. I've gathered by the way you talk that you're very protective of your brother and defensive when it comes to anything about the two of you, but really, you're pretty down-to-earth and nice. That's all I've got, but tell me, is any of it wrong?"

"Not a thing. I don't know if it's quite to par with Mr. Holmes, but you're pretty good at paying attention to the little things."

"Why thank you," she grinned, sighing out the words dramatically. "I take great pride in my skittles. Tell me, Sir Winchester, have you got any weird talents up your sleeve?"

"Unless you count building and fixing cars or making a mean burger, I can't say I do. How about you, Benny?"

"I know a few martial arts forms, but that's about it," the brunet replied. Dean noticed he was biting his lip, obviously more proud of his skills than he let on. He made a mental note to never mess with the guy; there was not a doubt in his mind that Benny could break his arm in an instant.

"So Dean," Charlie said, breaking through his thoughts like a rock to glass. "You said you have a little brother? How old is he?"

Dean's mouth split into a huge grin. He knew he always lit up like a Christmas tree whenever he got to brag about Sammy, but he couldn't help it. The kid was smart, he had a right to be proud.

"He's a few months over ten years old, but he managed to skip fifth grade so he's already at the middle school. Sam's a genius, I swear. The kid's dead-set on becoming some hot-shot lawyer."

"My little sister's like that," Benny smiled. "She's in fourth grade but she's so smart she was correcting me on my homework last year. It was the funniest thing I ever did see but I ended up getting the credit so I suppose I owe her for that."

"I thought they were having Liz skip a grade, too," Charlie said, her words lilting at the end to transform it into a question.

"Naw, she didn't get a good enough grade on the English portion of the test so she has to go through another year of too-easy math and science."

"This school system is screwy, man," Dean sympathized. "At least when she's in sixth grade they can bump her up to harder classes."

"I suppose."

The conversation lulled as they resumed eating. After a few minutes, however, Dean became fidgety.

"So I know that Charlie just moved here," he said, "but what about you, Benny? Have you lived here your whole life?"

"Mostly," the boy admitted through a bite of his sandwich. "I moved here when I was eight."

Dean nodded, "Where you from?"

"Louisiana. It was a hell of a lot more eventful than this place, I tell you, even just as another suburbia. Lawrence is the kind of place that you've got to come to love."

"I suppose that's true. Not much happens around here, does it?"

Charlie laughed, "Not at all! Freaking suburbs, nothing interesting ever happens. How are we supposed to find our adventure if the biggest thing that happens around here is an occasional car accident? The city is where all the fun is."

"Well we have cities," Dean defended. "Lawrence is only the sixth largest in Kansas."

"No, I'm talking big cities, like LA or Chicago or New York! That's the place to be."

"Well look at it this way, then. Lucy found Narnia while visiting her Uncle in the country; Harry grew up in the mother of all suburbia living a relatively normal life; Bilbo never wanted adventure or anything of the sort, and it came to him when he was middle aged. All the greats had normal beginnings, so who's to say yours needs to be exciting from the start? What you need is a catalyst, not some big city."

"That was inspirational, brother, really," Benny said, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye.

"It was," Charlie admitted, "but the point is that there's all these magical things happening in the world, all these great things, and I miss out just by being out of the way."

"Yeah, I know the feeling. You have to stay positive and hope, Charlie. You never know what might happen."

"I guess." Suddenly, her face perked up and she clapped her hands together. "Anyways, boys, it's been a pleasure but now lunch seems to be over. I'm off to study hall in room 201; I suppose I'll see you all tomorrow."

"I have the same study hall!" Dean exclaimed, grinning.

"Well, I'll see you around kids, have fun in whatever your next classes are," Benny said, scooping up his belongings before sauntering away.

"Come on then, Dean. I want to get the good seats just in case we end up sitting there permanently."

"Right, coming. Just… Can I go fix my shirt real quick? It'll only take a moment."

Charlie laughed, "Yeah sure, but hurry up, I don't want to be late for study hall of all things."

As Dean and Charlie walked to class, the former figured it wouldn't hurt to get a little more info on his new companions.

"So what's up with Benny?" he asked. "I mean, you said you just moved here, and he looks older than us – how do you know him?"

"Yeah," she responded, "Benny's a sophomore. I met him about a week ago when I went to get a library card. We talked for a while about books and who made a cuter couple with Hermione, Harry, or Ron. Eventually I asked where he lived and we found out that we were neighbors. Been hanging out since. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious; you two seemed pretty close and all."

"Yeah, we're pretty close" was her only response as they entered the room. Charlie headed straight to a seat a few rows back, right by the windows, leaving Dean to follow in her wake, wondering just how close his new friends were. The rest of the class trickled in soon after, cutting it as close to the bell as they could, he supposed. Their teacher stood from her desk as the bell chimed, and Dean was relieved to find that she didn't seem to have any syllabuses.

"I'm Ms. Brown, this is study hall, and for the most part, none of you would listen if I did have any rules so all I'm going to ask is for a reasonable volume and that you have respect for myself and this room. That's it, guys. Have a blast."

With that, she went back to her desk, shuffling a pile of papers and beginning to grade. Dean blinked. It wasn't what he'd been expecting, but he certainly was not complaining. He turned to Charlie, finding that she wore a matching grin.

"I like her," Charlie exclaimed, putting the emphasis on 'her'.

"Me too. I swear, she's the first teacher I've had that hasn't lectured through the entire period."

"Same. I don't have any homework, do you?"

Dean shook his head, "Let's just talk, I mean, I barely know you."

"Very true, sir. Alright, let's just talk then. You first."

"Harry and Hermione are better as friends, by the way," he whispered.

Charlie glowed, "That's what I said! Benny's convinced they dated in secret or something while Ron was with Lavender but, I mean, Romione for the win."

"It's a valid theory, but I don't think so. Harry liked Ginny at that point. I mean, who could blame him, she was a complete boss."

"She is! The movies really didn't do her justice… Hey, can I see your schedule? I think I might have seen you in some of my classes earlier."

"It would be awesome if we had most of our classes together," he said passing it over. Charlie unfolded it, pulling her own from her backpack to compare.

"Dude, we have like four out of seven classes together and I'm pretty sure you're with Benny for one of the remaining three."

"Let me see, let me see!" Dean exclaimed, leaning over her shoulder in an attempt to get a look.

She pushed the papers over so that they were now resting between the both of them. "Look, we have Math with Carter next, and then you and Benny have Gym with Henriksen while I have French. We'll both have Biology with Meyers, seventh period. This morning you were in my World Geography and English classes! It's all our core classes and then one more."

"So while I was bored out of my skull this morning, you were in the same room? Twice? That kind of sucks…"

"Hey, I was bored too. We'll sit together tomorrow, okay? This is like miracle stuff, dude. No one ever has classes with their friends!"

"No kidding," he grinned back. Sure, the day had started out rough, but it was starting to look up and that's all that mattered to him. Maybe he could get through this school year, after all.


	2. II

**Hello again! Thanks for the follows, faves, and review! They mean a lot. Who's ready for some Cas? Thanks of course goes to my splendiferous beta, Brittany.  
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**Disclaimer: My previous disclaimer may lead you to believe I am a writer of SPN. I had no idea... But if I were, Sam and Dean would suck it up and get over their pity party. (sorry, that was harsh...)(here's to hoping)**

**Enjoy the chappy :)**

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Castiel Novak woke with a start to the beeping of his alarm. Today was to be his first day in public school and while he was excited, to say he was also nervous would be an understatement. His older brother, Gabriel, had been teasing him for years about "that stick up his ass" and his quirky, formal dialect. Last night when he had been laying out his clothes for the next day, Gabriel had even come in and criticized that, helping him find a "cooler" outfit.

Ultimately, Castiel was scared that he wouldn't fit in; that he would be just as miserable and out-of-place as he had been at Catholic school.

As he tugged on the jeans, t-shirt, and vest that Gabe had helped him select the night before, he heard the bustling of Anna in the kitchen. His spirits lifted; she had promised, after all, to make him waffles in celebration of his first day.

"Cassie!" Gabe called from the base of the stairs. "Breakfast! Hurry up, bro, the bus comes in half an hour!"

He grabbed his comb and backpack before heading downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast. Anna set a plate in front of him, causing Castiel's mouth to water in anticipation as he thanked her. Gabriel shot him a quick wave as he pushed away from the table and his empty, syrupy plate, darting upstairs, presumably to brush his teeth.

"So are you excited for school, Cas?" she asked.

"Yes," he garbled through a mouthful of waffle. "But I'm apprehensive as well."

"Don't be scared; they'll love you, little brother. Balthazar said he would show you around, right?"

Cas nodded; he had forgotten that Balthazar would be attending the same school. They even shared many of the same classes, which was pure luck.

"Well then you'll be fine, he's a good friend. Hurry and eat 'cause you and Gabe have to be at the bus stop soon. Man does it feel nice, not waking up for school at some ungodly hour. Four more years and you'll be free, Cas."

"You still have culinary school starting next month, Anna," he reminded.

"Yeah, well, that's fun stuff; it's not like I'll have math and science and all that crap."

"Cooking uses plenty of math, and baking is a science, you should know this. Though I see what you mean; doing what you love isn't work whereas school is."

"Exactly! I won't have classes starting at seven-thirty in the morning, either."

"Yes, that is one thing I believe I could do without. I do not think I am much of a morning person."

Gabriel came back just as he finished that sentence, slinging an arm over Castiel's shoulder. "It's not so bad, Cassie! You'll get used to it eventually. Better go brush your teeth – bus comes in five."

"I'd rather not miss the bus, Gabe," he said, shoveling down the rest of his food. "I've got gum, let's go."

"That's gross, Cas," Anna chided. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed his backpack and started out the door, sticking out his tongue as he went.

The bus ride was fairly uneventful, but to Castiel, who had only been on busses for rare school trips, it proved to be a source of fascination. The teens packed into their seats like sardines, but the constant, cheery chatter never faded and neither did the antics of the more unruly. One boy – Gabriel said his name was John – even went so far as to shoot a spitball at one of the girl's up front. Castiel didn't want to laugh, but found himself chuckling, caught up in the swirl of delirious excitement. It was strange, to be finally joining what his oldest brother had labeled as the "barbarians," but in all the hysteria, he found himself enjoying it.

"Well Cassie," Gabe said when they arrived at the school, "I'm glad to see you laughing, but I'd better go find Kal before she kills me. See you around, little bro! Have a good first day."

"Bye Gabe," he murmured, facing the towering building. It seemed to lack the prestige his former school possessed, yet it held its own sense of wonder. He decided that it would be best to find Balthazar and get this show on the road, as Gabriel would put it.

"Hello, Lawrence High."

"Cassie!" Balthazar exclaimed upon spotting him, throwing his arms wide.

Castiel grimaced, noticing the group of unfamiliar faces behind his friend. "Balth, I told you to stop calling me that. Gabe does it just to be annoying. I do not mind Cas, but I despise the feminine connotation of "Cassie.""

"All right," his friend grinned. "Well, let's introduce you to the pack, shall we? This is Cora, John, Freddy, Martha, and Meg."

Cas paid attention, filing away each of their names to avoid awkward conversation down the line. The last girl spiked his attention, however, and he found himself staring for just a moment too long. Balthazar noticed immediately.

"Oh oh, Cas! Have you already taken a fancy to Masters here? I wouldn't go for her if I were you, buddy – she's trouble."

"Is she?" he muttered in response, dazed. "How so?"

"Cas cut it out, seriously. She hangs around with Crowley more than with us and believe me, that's one dick bag you don't want to tangle with. They're exes but he's ridiculously protective of her."

"Don't see how that makes her trouble, Balth. Class starts in two minutes so why don't we head there and you can explain on the walk. English is first, correct?"

"Yeah, it is. It's not far, either. Come along, Cassie, and allow me to show you the glories of public school."

"Right… How is Meg trouble, then?"

"Do we really have to do this now? I was going to show you around the school properly and we were going to have a nice, peaceful day of boredom. You just instantaneously had to fall in love with the first girl you saw. That's it, I'm calling Joshua, and we're sending you back to private school."

"No! Balthazar, don't call my father, he will not take it as a joke, and you know that. Besides, I am not in love with Meg; I simply would like to know more about her. You said you would tell me while we walked. Tell me."

His companion sighed dramatically, "If you insist. For starters, the girl is mad. She's brash, derogative, a regular in detention, and every few weeks there's some sort of scandal centered on her. Most of those, admittedly, are merely rumors, but I know a few to be true. It's like something out of a bad movie, but it is, sadly, true."

Cas was silent for the rest of the short walk to English. At the door to the classroom, he nodded, assumedly in affirmation to Balthazar's warning, before walking in and taking a seat front and center.

"No," Balthazar ordered, grabbing his arm and hauling him up. "We don't sit in the front; the teachers always call on the kids in the front and you can't get away with anything. Back of the room. Now."

"But—"

He never got the chance to finish, for he could not fight the strong grip and determination of Balthazar. They took seats beside each other in the second-to-last row nearest the door just as their teacher entered, immediately welcoming them, and taking attendance before diving into an explanation of the year's schedule.

Five minutes into their teacher's lecture, something sharp, light, and scratchy whacked Castiel on the side of his face, causing him to jump and his desk to clang painfully loud. Most of the kids looked back at him, snickering, and the teacher shot him a quick glare. Feeling the blush creep up his neck, he looked down at the surface to see a crumpled piece of loose leaf staring back at him. A quick glance at Balthazar told him all he needed to know, and he waited to open it until the next shuffle of papers to flutter around the room. It simply read "hello."

Castiel glared across the small aisle at his friend, tucking the note away and taking out a sheet of paper as their teacher had requested. He could not afford to slack in his education or his father would surely remove him from public school.

For the rest of class, Castiel focused on the boring drone of his teacher's voice, not even daring to peek at Balthazar for fear of being distracted once more.

He should have sat up front.

Two classes followed English in the race to lunchtime, and only one of them was shared with Balthazar. To his dismay, Castiel also learned that for the duration of the year, he and his friend would have separate lunches, leaving him to fend for himself. A quick glance told him just how much of a task trying to find a friendly face in the sea of the lunchroom would be, so he headed to the more sparsely packed courtyard. Outside, he made a scraggly tree his new home, sliding down the trunk with his lunch and his book. It was going to be a lonely year, at this rate.

"Hey!" a voice piped. "What are you doing sitting all alone? Books are good company, but this is lunch; the time for socializing and friends!"

Cas looked up to see a small girl with strawberry blonde hair and grey eyes crouched down in front of him. Her face was about five inches from his, her eyes boring into his, resulting in his immediate discomfort. Seeming to notice, she scooted over until she was beside him, her eyes remaining on him.

"I don't have any," he muttered, dropping his gaze.

"No friends? One would think an attractive fellow like you would be the popular type. You're not new here, are you?"

"I have one friend; he just doesn't have this lunch. Moreover, that would depend on what you classify as new. I am as new to this school as the other freshmen, but while I am not new to this district, I am quite new to public schooling."

"Oh! I see… Well welcome to Lawrence High, I suppose. I'm April, fellow freshman. What's your name?"

"Castiel," he said, reaching out a hand to shake, "nice to meet you. Not that I don't appreciate what you are doing here, but don't you have friends you would rather sit with?"

"Nope, just like you my friends all have second lunch. Looks like you'll be stuck with me this year, huh?"

"I wouldn't say stuck with," he smiled. "More like granted the gift of your company."

April's already large grin widened at that, and she nudged into his shoulder playfully. "Oh stop it, you. Can I see the book you were reading before I interrupted?"

"All right," Castiel responded, passing it over. As soon as it left his hands, he felt as though the last of his protection was torn from his grasp. He was suddenly vulnerable.

The girl examined the book with care, gingerly flipping it over in her hands to read the back. He watched with curious eyes as her face lit up in excitement before she passed the book back.

"Whoa," April murmured, "that sounds like a really good book, Cas."

He nodded, pulling it back against his chest tightly, "Yeah, it is; it's one of my favorites."

"How come?"

"My mother used to read it to me when I was young. It was always one of her favorites, and I believe she hoped I would love it just as much. I did, obviously. She always said that books were a portal to both other worlds and the soul – what you read reflects who you are for it is the second purest joy."

"Oh?" April raised an eyebrow, smiling softly. "What does she believe is purest?"

Castiel shrugged noncommittally, "Love."

"I think that's beautiful. Your mother sounds like a lovely woman."

"She was," he agreed. "She died when I was six. Before you ask, her pregnancy with me brought anemia - they thought she would die in childbirth - but she refused to get rid of me. She ended up making it another six years, but the treatments weren't working and it caught up to her."

"Cas, I—"

"Don't say sorry, either! I have had enough pitying looks to last me a lifetime, and sorry is a silly condolence. Sorry should be saved for when one does something wrong, not when one had no control over a situation."

"I wasn't going to apologize!"

"Yeah, okay," he said, rolling his eyes. She did not respond, allowing a particularly awkward atmosphere to blanket them. He took it upon himself to studiously examine the details of the school's brick structure, until he began to notice his companion fidgeting against the tension.

"I told you you'd be better off with your own friends."

"You said nothing of the sort," April chided, "but I told you that all my friends have second lunch. Honestly, I'd rather be here. You're far more straightforward and interesting."

Castiel flushed, "Thank you, I suppose. I have told you quite a bit about myself, which is unusual for me, especially considering we've only just met. I don't know why, but I trust you, April, so that means a lot."

The girl beamed, "Hey, can I see your schedule? We might have some classes together!"

"Yes of course, it would be nice to have a familiar face."

Snatching the paper from him, she seemed to devour the words, her face lighting up and falling again just as rapidly, only to repeat the cycle. "We have a few classes together," was her conclusion as she thrust the chart back into his hands. "You're in my AP Human Geography class, Study Hall, and Algebra II H."

"That is a relief," he smiled honestly. "That means the only class I will be alone is sixth hour, Chemistry."

"Oh don't worry, my friend Meg is in that class! You'll love her, I promise."

If possible, Castiel turned an even darker shade of red, his hand rising to rub nervously at his neck. "I, uh, already sort of met her. That friend I was telling you about - Balthazar - introduced me to some of his other friends this morning. She was present at the time."

April's face wrinkled in disgust, to his surprise. "Balthazar? He's your only friend here? Oh Cas, honey, I hate to break it to you but he's not exactly friend material. He'll pick up a few friends, mess around with them, and then leave them behind more broken than before."

"Balthazar? No, he would not do something so cruel, not to me. We have been friends for years and while he has been everything from petulcous to larcenous, he has never been cruel."

"You've been sheltered," she shrugged. "That makes you one of the lucky ones. Take it from someone who knows; public school is far more painful, and Balthazar Roche is not someone you want to take a chance with. He knows, better than anyone, how to play people."

Castiel shook his head in disbelief, but the doubts were already flooding his mind, tainting everything he thought he knew about his friend. After all, how many times had Balthazar come to him, glowing over his new boyfriend or girlfriend, then, days later, inform him of their break-up with seemingly no distress? How many times had Castiel been introduced to Balthazar's friends, never to meet them again? It was all rather strange, when put into perspective. Before he knew it, Castiel found him nodding and murmuring his agreement. It felt like a betrayal, and he held no grudge towards his friend, but as April said, he did not want to take his chances.

His new friend seemed to understand. "Don't worry, Cas. You've got me and my friends; we'll help you out."

Castiel's eyes flickered to hers. He matched her smile, "Thank you, April. That is very kind of you."


	3. III

**Holy butt this is late. I'm really sorry guys. Things just started piling up and ack. I hope you've all had a nice 3 weeks though! Thanks for the faves and follows! I hope you enjoy this chapter. As usual, reviews make my day.**

**Disclaimer: All I own is my ideas. Nothing else.**

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"No! No, I most certainly will _not. _Balthazar, you know I don't do parties, I have no idea where you got the idea that I'd want to come along but I won't."

"Oh come _on _Cassy, live a little! You only have to go for a few hours and you don't have to drink or anything!"

Castiel glared at his best friend, crossing his arms. "No. I don't want to go and you cannot make me so just drop the issue, all right? There's nothing you can say that will make me want to go."

"Oh?" Balthazar asked, eyes lighting up mischievously. "Not even if I told you that April was going to be there, hmm?"

"What? April—She never said she was going to Meg's party. How do you know this anyways?"

An amused chuckle, accompanied with a knowing smirk followed his reaction. "I have my ways, my dear naïve friend. Now are you going to stop being a spoilsport and come with me? It won't be any fun if you're not going to be there, Cas."

"You've gone to loads of parties without me before, Balth; I don't see why this should be any different. It would be nice to see April, but I do not wish to go to a party."

"I've been to parties without you, my dear friend, this is true. However, I strongly believe you would have a blast if you came with. Hell, you'd be the life of the party! Just come, would you? _Please?_"

_"Fine!" _Cas sighed, rolling his eyes. "But you better not tell Anna, she'd kill me!"

"Can I tell Joshua though?"

"No! Dear Lord... Balthazar, are you trying to get me killed? I'll go with you but don't let my family find out. I do not have a death wish."

"Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed… All right, all right, I won't tell, just don't back out of this."

Castiel smiled softly, "I said I would go, didn't I? I keep my promises, even if we never actually promised anything."

Balthazar's grin lit up his whole face, and he lunged forward to press a sloppy kiss to Castiel's cheek. "You won't regret this, my friend. I'm going to make sure you have the best night of your _life."_

With that, he skipped back down the street to his own home. Once he was out of sight, Cas trudged inside, dropping his bag on one of the kitchen chairs in his path to grab a glass of water. His first week of public school had been relatively uninteresting academically, but oh-so enthralling in every other way. Castiel had been home schooled the majority of his life, with very limited communication when it came to kids his own age. Sure, he had gone to private, Catholic schools a few times, but never for long and it had been nothing like _this._ The kids at Lawrence High were each so different, so unique, and it was _fascinating._ The way they interacted alone was enough to pull him in, tempt him to ignore his lessons in favor of observing. There were so many 'groups', and each 'group' had littler clusters, and they didn't all interact and… If he thought about it too long, it made his head swim. The feeling was synonymous to flying, yet still mildly uncomfortable. The most interesting thing was that he didn't really fit in with anyone. In a school where there were so many options and personalities, he was still the oddball. It provided a twisted sort of comfort; he was still his own person and he wasn't obligated to make friends just because he fit in with some people.

The thought made him smile as the water from the fridge poured into his glass. Then, the thought of all his projects crossed his mind. It seems as though every teacher felt the need to bombard him with work, and it was only the first week of school! Now that he was going to Meg's party with Balthazar Saturday night, he would be losing hours of work time, both in the evening and Sunday morning. This meant he would be doing the majority of his work tonight, instead of having a movie night with his siblings as he had originally planned.

Castiel groaned, just as Gabriel walked in, bag of jellybeans in hand.

"What's wrong, little bro? Not the best week?"

"It's not that, public school is wondrous, but they assigned so much _homework._ I'm afraid I won't finish if I don't get started tonight."

"Aw come on Cassy, it can't be that bad!" Gabe hoisted himself onto the table, kicking a chair out for his feet to rest on. "What do you have to do, anyways?"

"For starters, I have a poem to write "about me" for English and you know how awful I am at poetry. In Chemistry, we have been assigned a pre-test, 100 questions, due Monday so that our teacher can test where we're at, knowledge-wise. I don't think that was the wisest choice, for it would be easy to cheat using the internet, but nonetheless, that will take me about an hour. We've already started our curriculum in Human Geography, and our first draft of a research paper on a culture of our choice is also due Monday. Finally, in Algebra II, I have an extra credit review packet that I should really take advantage of, based on my usual mathematics scores."

Gabriel let out a low whistle, seeming impressed. Castiel returned his sentiment with a pointed glare.

"Well, you weren't kidding, that is a helluva workload you got going on there! But I still don't get it, why can't you do it tomorrow and Sunday?"

"I let Balthazar talk me into "hanging out" tomorrow night, and I'll be staying the night at his house," Castiel explained, pinching the bridge of his nose. He hated lying to his brother, no matter how small, and he despised even more losing time with his siblings. Their schedules made such times difficult, and he wished he could grab hold of every second of opportunity. His guilt was not eased by the hurt look and narrowed eyes on Gabe's face.

"So you're telling me that you're ditching me and Anna tonight in favor of your church friend? Nuh uh, little bro. We're kidnapping you; you can just do your homework now, tomorrow morning, and Sunday. Hop to it, kiddo."

"Gabe! I seriously—Oh Lord you won't let me out of this will you? Not even with my grades at stake?"

Gabriel shook his head, grinning before hopping off the table and wandering toward the stairs. He looked back over his shoulder to shoot a last, commanding stare at him before rounding the corner and darting upstairs. Castiel sighed again, a laughing forcing its way from his chest and huffing across his lips. Gabriel was right, it wasn't fair of him to neglect his siblings like that, and he could get all his work done in the time between, but it would be difficult.

That being said, he better get started.

"Pass the popcorn, Castiel?" Anna asked from her spot, curled on the armchair beside the couch.

Castiel grumbled in response, hugging the bowl against his chest. "You had your own bowl! It's not my fault you ate it all in the first five minutes."

"C'mon, Cas, please? I don't want to get up, just give me a little?"

"Would you two shut up?" Gabriel demanded, glaring at them. The sound of the movie ceased and it took a minute for Castiel to realize it was paused. "This movie is actually pretty good, not that you would know with all your yapping, and I want to hear it. Now quiet. Cassy just give Anna a little popcorn, please?"

"Fine! Next time don't eat while you're waiting for me to set it up, though," he relented, thrusting the bowl towards his sister.

Anna grinned, shooting a wink over his shoulder. "Thanks Cas, I won't do it again, I promise."

Castiel didn't believe her for a second. Every movie night, Anna ended up commandeering all the popcorn, and honestly, he wasn't upset about it happening again tonight. He merely wanted to – what would April say – give her shit. The habit was nearly an endearing one, and he didn't bother reminding his sister that they were sharing and she should only take a bit. Gabriel un-paused the movie and they slipped back into the comfort of the cinematography and acting.

The movie was a familiar one; Anna had picked it a few weeks ago. He couldn't tell you what the film was about exactly, or many of the character's names, but it had action and good comedic aspects for Gabriel, a romance for Anna, and a soundtrack that allowed Cas to think around it, so they had bought it at a thrift store. Currently, someone called Wesley was fighting to free himself and the main character from the vicious, giant rats. Gabe was on the edge of his seat, literally.

A fond smile settled itself on Castiel's lips as he sank back on the couch, curling into the corner. Movie night with his siblings was one of his favorite things, even if they didn't interact much during it. The point was, the three of them were together, and that fact radiated in the air as the movie played, wedging contentment into Castiel's veins. It also helped that, at the end of every movie, they always managed to get into some pillow fight or another. Castiel prided himself on his status of current king.

The movie continued to play. The lead, Buttercup, was saved and so was her "love", Wesley. In a beautiful ending, they and their companions stole and rose off into the horizon on white horses before it cut back to a little boy with the flu whose grandfather had been telling him the story all along. The boy begrudgingly admits the tale was quite good, and the grandfather promises to come back and read it to him again, soon.

Credits roll and Gabriel snapped the TV off with a grin. "Pillow fight?"

The voice, pleading and hopeful, made Cas laugh. He exchanged a knowing look with Anna, and then pulled his pillow out from behind him. Anna mirrored his actions and they both attack, knocking Gabriel to the ground with the force of their blows. He fights valiantly, but with two-to-one, he never stood a chance. It takes roughly ten minutes of Castiel whopping him with a pillow and Anna tickling him silly for him to surrender. Even in that short time, they had all managed to laugh themselves breathless and each was sporting new bruises from the whipping of pillows.

"I can't believe you betrayed me, Anna!" Gabriel complained. "We were going to team up on Castiel, you promised!"

Anna shrugged, grinning, "Cas' argument was far more persuasive than yours, sorry, my love and assistance doesn't come easy kiddo."

"What did he offer you anyways?"

"Oh my dear brother," Castiel laughed, shooting his sister a firm glare, "that information is strictly confidential."

Gabriel pushed them off, rising indignantly before storming upstairs. Their laughter followed him, not dying out until they could no longer breathe and pain shot through their gut with every attempt. It was then that Cas hauled himself to his feet, offering Anna a hand up before dismissing himself to bed. He had barely begun his homework, and yet he didn't regret the evening in the slightest. He was even beginning to look forward to tomorrow night.

With contentment buzzing through his veins, Castiel flopped into his bed, dozing off in moments.

The next day, Castiel woke later than usual to the buzzing of his phone. His alarm clock showed a little after eleven, and the house smelled like Anna's cooking. He shot a quick text back to Balthazar, confirming he was still up for tonight, and then rolled out of bed. The wood floor sent shivers up his spine, his toes crinkling in discomfort, as he padded down to the kitchen. Anna was dancing in the space by the stove as she cooked; to what music, Castiel had no idea. He slipped around her, pulling the honey out from the cabinet beside the fridge. It was not until he turned around again, prize in hand, that his sister jumped in surprise, finally noticing him.

"Cas! Don't sneak up on me like that, Jesus!"

"To be fair, I wasn't exactly quiet, you just weren't paying attention. What are you making, anyways?"

"Nothing you deserve if you aren't even going to apologize," she grumbled, crossing her arms.

Castiel rolled his eyes, pulling a spoon from the drawer. "Dearest Anna," he sighed dramatically, "I am ever so sorry I startled you. I know such crime is punishable by death. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Smartass," Anna laughed. "I forgive you. I'm making crepes, give me a hand?"

"Sure thing."

He licked the last of his honey off the spoon, tossed it in the sink, and screwed the lid back on the jar. The honey was from a local hive to help him with his allergies, so no one in his family cared if he double dipped, but he tried not to. It was unsanitary; he tried to avoid such things when possible.

"Kay, get the strawberries out and start slicing," Anna ordered.

Twenty minutes later, they had a towering pile of crepes, a bowl full of strawberries, and one bottle of chocolate syrup. It was then that Gabriel finally decided to join them. Even after they were full to bursting, there were enough cakes to feed another family. Castiel slipped upstairs to get ready for his and Balthazar's 'movie night,' leaving Gabriel to suffer Anna's demanding he be the one to clean up, since she cooked. What could he say? It was only fair.

At about ten that night, Cas and Balthazar arrived at Meg's house. The party was already in full swing, due to Balthazar's insisting they be an hour late, claiming it 'fashionable.' Castiel had tried protesting, not wanting to stand out any more than he already did, but his friend hadn't relented.

Immediately, Cas' eyes fell on April. She was leaning against the wall at the back of the large living room, drinking something from a SOLO cup. The stereotype of the scene nearly had him gagging, and yet he found himself floating closer to the girl.

When she saw him, April's face lit up. "Hey, Cas! I thought you said you weren't really into parties, what're you doing here?"

"Balth, uh, dragged me into it," he blushed, rubbing at the back of his neck. "What about you?"

"I decided I might as well live life to the fullest and go to a party for once in my life, y'know? It's no fun just staying in all the time, _reading_ about everything you're missing. Sometimes you have to go out and live it yourself."

Cas laughed, "I guess you're right, though this looks like something out of some corny movie, don't you think?"

"I suppose it does! Aw well, at least we know that if it sticks with this trend, our first party is sure to be a wild one, huh?"

"Yeah…" Castiel shifted his weight, unsure of what to say next.

April perked up, "Hey! Sticking with the stereotypical party theme, do you want to go dance? We might as well, right? No more philosophical conversation for now, I promise."

"I don't—I don't really dance, April. I mean I never have before except at my Aunt's wedding once, but that was when I was nine and I really don't think—"

"Cas!" She grabbed him by the shoulders, steadying him. "You're rambling. Come on, just dance with me. I don't care if you step on my feet or anything, okay? Just feel the music and… Dance!"

With that, she pulled him away from the wall, towards the middle of the room. He stumbled a few times, trying to regain control of his footing. The next thing he knew, he was being swung around, another hand fitting into his open one. April was in front of him, then, laughing.

"C'mon Cas, dance! No one's watching us; they don't care if you screw up."

For the first time in his life, Castiel Novak danced. He danced without knowing how to dance, without any inhibitions, and without considering for a minute the fact that his older brother might be at the party. Castiel had _fun_, and for the first time in ages, he felt well and truly free.

He never wanted that feeling to end.


	4. IV

**I apologize for the shortness and fillerness of this chapter, but Dean doesn't have half as much going on his Freshman year as Cas does. His chapters might not be as frequent, or as long. Thanks for the follows, I hope you enjoy this chapter! As always, reviews make my day. **

**Disclaimer: I only wish I owned these characters... Or Supernatural... (that'd be a bad idea though...)**

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Homecoming fell particularly early that year. Dean didn't know why, and the fact would have been lost on him entirely if he hadn't taken Sam to the parades over the years. He wasn't really into that whole "spirit" thing.

This was why he kept his head down in the hallway the first morning of spirit week. The plan was to get to his locker, grab his stuff, and hide from Charlie until the last possible second right before the bell. He didn't want her nagging about making the most of the one week they actually get to dress crazy. She hadn't struck him as the type to care, either, but for her it wasn't about school spirit. This was her week for shitty cosplaying without the administration complaining and classmates judging even more than usual. She had tried drawing Dean in with the promise of a Fili and Kili duo on "twin day" but he hadn't succumbed. Drawing attention to himself never ended well in the past and it was nothing he wanted to relive, no matter how tempting the offer.

Unfortunately, luck was not on his side, today. Charlie sidled up beside him just as he was closing his locker, causing him to slam it harder than he had intended. The few people in the hallway this late shot him concerned stares before returning to their own conversations.

"Winchester! I thought we agreed to dress up this week? You are spectacularly un-wizardly today."

"Charlie," he started, cringing at how whiny it sounded. "I told you I don't do spirit weeks. I'd rather remain inconspicuous, thank you very much."

"Oh come on, Dean. You would make a great Dumbledore or something. Oh! What about Luna? I think I have a spare set of robes in my locker. They're even Ravenclaw! _Please?_"

She trailed her best puppy eyes at him and—shit. He was about to give in, consequences be damned, when the warning bell rang. Dean didn't even check to see if she was following before he was half-running away from her and towards their World Geography class. He was in his seat a good minute before Charlie walked in. She slid into her spot beside him, but rather than turn to talk as normal, she pulled out a piece of paper from her binder and began doodling aimlessly. She wasn't even humming, and Charlie _always _hummed while she drew. He had seriously fucked up.

It wasn't as though he didn't _want _to dress up. It would probably be the most fun thing he's done in years. Dean just didn't want the repercussions slamming him from behind and fucking up his life even more. No matter what, everything he did somehow made its way back to John and as if that weren't enough, _Crowley _had been keeping tabs on him for years, using any excuse to find him after school.

Which brought him back to Charlie. She still didn't know about any of that. She was easily one of his best friends, and she had heard stories of Crowley's reign over their school, but he had not told her about his own experiences with the bully or about his father. Some things just were not necessary; she would find out in due time. For now, she was still sulking, scribbling out the doodles that she messed up. It had only been a minute or two and already her paper was full, yet another tip off that she was upset.

The official start to the day rang out as their teacher walked in, shuffling a stack of papers absentmindedly. Dean pulled out his own sheet of paper, scribbling a note on it and pushing it in front of Charlie as soon as Ms. Dessertine was seated at her desk. Charlie glanced at the message laying half over her doodles, huffed, and pushed it aside. Dean knew it was all a ploy to make him feel guilty, but damn if that girl wasn't good. The emotion swelled up to settle heavily in his chest.

"Come on, Char," he murmured. "Please?"

Another small, exasperated noise left her, but she pulled the note towards her, nonetheless. He could practically _taste _her joy when the meaning of his words settled in. Yeah, he'd do this one thing for her – one day of dressing up and being silly. He was pretty sure that if their teacher weren't taking role, he would have an armful of nerdy redhead right now.

As it was, a tiny, drawn out squeak was forcing its way from his friend, like when you pull the opening of a balloon tight and let the air out squeeze out. Dean huffed a laugh, grabbing Charlie's right hand with his left and squeezing. Christ, if she doesn't calm down, he's afraid she might explode.

"Charlie," whispered, squeezing her hand again to get her attention. "Jesus, take deep breaths, it's not that big a deal."

Her whisper-squeal of, "Yesitis!" came at the same time their teacher called his name, the last on the list.

"Here!" he announced, dropping his voice again for Charlie. "Well at least try to stop hyperventilating, you're going to pass out."

That seemed to get through to her. She returned to her doodles, forcing her breathing calm with enough focus for it to look painful, until she was calm enough to hum under her breath again. Of course, she was still bouncing in her seat and Dean really could not understand why she was so excited about being Fili and Kili together but whatever. To each their own. If that was what made Charlie happy then so be it.

He returned his attention to their usual ten-minute lesson, glad that his friend was no longer sulking.

That afternoon, Dean collapsed on his bed with relief. It had been a long day. In gym, they'd had to run The Mile for fitness testing. Then, at lunch, Lisa Braeden had actually come up to him and asked if he wanted to go to homecoming with her. That would have busted any other guy's ego, but for Dean it resulted in a lot of blushing, stuttered words, and his friends giving her shit about only asking him as a joke or something. The suggestion had Dean ducking his head and Lisa objecting strongly. She confessed she'd actually been hoping _Dean _would ask _her_ and when he hadn't, her friends talked her into just asking him herself.

He was going to pick her up at seven on Friday.

Yeah, as though _that _thought didn't have him practically hyperventilating. Fortunately, he had enough money saved for dinner and the items for his "twin day" outfit. Still, he couldn't believe it – Lisa Braeden wanted to go to homecoming with him. He might cry; it was so unreal.

Okay so maybe it was a little pathetic that he'd had a crush on her for _years_ and it took her asking him to homecoming for anything to come of it. She was just so smart and nice and absolutely gorgeous… Could you blame a guy for not wanting to get shot down?

His joy didn't erase the glitches in the plan, though. Dean wasn't stupid, he knew that you can't just go and leave a ten-year-old home alone all night, no matter how responsible and how good with a knife said kid is. He wasn't old enough to drive, either, so how the hell was he supposed to get them to dinner and the dance? At least he had a suit that kind of mostly fit him, and he could always steal his dad's dress shoes from his closet…

What had Dean gotten himself into?

Another groan into his pillow before Dean was hauling himself up, fumbling for the phone that he _knew _had to be somewhere on his – oh there it is. He scooped the cellphone from beside his lamp, sleepily typing in the number for Bobby's shop.

It rang a total of four times before the line clicked followed by a gruff "Yeah?"

"Hey Bobby, it's Dean, uh…" he wasn't quite sure how to voice his request. He didn't like asking Bobby for things, not when he already did so much for them.

"Out with it, boy. I don't got all day. What do you need?"

"I need someone to watch Sam on Friday, and I need some way to get a girl to dinner and a dance without walking all over Lawrence for hours. You got any ideas?"

Bobby's laugh sounded from the other end of the line and Dean wasn't nearly as amused as his "uncle" was. "Boy, did you call me for help with your homecoming date less than a week before? I thought you had more sense than that."

"Well it's not my fault! She just a—I mean yeah, I forgot."

That… That had been close. He would never live it down if Bobby found out that he hadn't even manned up to his feelings, he'd _been _asked instead of doing the asking.

"Oh no, what was that about your girl? She just what?"

"Nothing, it's nothing!" he protested. Of course, he wouldn't be let off that easily.

"Dean, when did you ask this girl out?"

His heart froze. Even over the phone, Bobby always saw right through him. He had no chance of lying his way out of this one, and no foreseeable path to avoid it.

"I didn't," he mumbles, barely comprehensible to his own ears.

"What was that?"

Bobby wasn't even _trying_ to hide the smile in his voice. It was infuriating.

Dean snapped, both from embarrassment and from anger that he was forced to subject himself to the inevitable teasing. "I didn't ask her, okay? She asked _me_ today at lunch."

Bobby let out a short laugh. It was barely five seconds long but Dean hated every moment of it. His face was hot with horror and embarrassment. Ten minutes ago, he hadn't even cared that Lisa had been the one to ask him and now this! He felt like a dick.

Then, Bobby said something that he never expected to hear from his uncle. "Any girl who has the guts to ask your emotionally repressed ass out – to a dance, no less – has got some serious guts. If things go well then you ask her to dinner at my place in a few weeks, got it? As for Sam, he can stay the night here any time; you ought to know that."

"Thanks," Dean stuttered, relieved. "Any ideas about the rides though?"

"I'd have thought that was obvious. You need a ride, you text me fifteen minutes beforehand and I'll be there waiting with the Impala. Now get off the damn phone and do your homework for a change. I'll see you here tomorrow afternoon so you can start working off the debt."

Dean knew Bobby didn't really mean it, he would have done all this anyways, regardless of pay, but he was grateful. No way in hell was he going to ask for so much and give nothing in return.

The line clicked again, and Dean fell back as though the puppet master dropped the strings holding him in place. His eyes slid closed and his brain wandered until the world finally went black.

Judging by the angle of light in his room, it was about six when Dean woke to the slamming of a door. His dad wasn't due back for a few days but that meant nothing, John was always coming and going as he pleased, not giving any warning to either of his sons. Then, there was the chance that the person walking in was actually Sam and if that were the case, Dean would have to have a serious talk with his baby brother. He couldn't just show up two and a half hours after his bus and expect to get away with it, even if Dean had been asleep.

Yeah, he should get up and go check who it was. He wasn't entirely sure he'd locked up when he came home so there was that other slim chance that a burglar was in their home. Yawning, Dean finally managed to roll to his feet and make his way to the door.

"Dean?"

The voice was young and familiar and, oh thank whatever gods were out there, it was Sam. The house was totally not ready for their dad to return, yet.

"Where have you been, Sammy?"

He was proud that he managed to keep his tone light, conversational, and sleep-free, with the hard line of calm anger underneath."

Sam dropped his gaze, "I was at Kevin's. My friend in Math, remember? He's really smart and we were studying together. His mom gave me a ride home. I tried texting you."

Dean glanced down at his phone – he hadn't realized he grabbed it when he got up – and sure enough, there were five new messages, four of which were from Sam and one from Charlie.

"Oh."

"Yeah, when you didn't respond I just kind of assumed you'd be okay with it. I'm not in trouble, am I?"

They walked further into the apartment, Dean perching on the arm of one of their couches. "No, it's not your fault I fell asleep. Did you eat?"

Sam nodded, "We had pizza. Did you?"

"Yeah, made myself a sandwich." he lied. "So you had fun? Kevin enough of a nerd for you?"

"I'm just as much a nerd as you," Sam retorted, rolling his eyes. "I just like math more."

"And hence you are the greater nerd. Seriously, who actually likes math?" His heart wasn't really in the argument, this time. He was too tired and it had just been a way to change the subject off food.

"Lots of people, Dean. It's really not that rare."

"Well I think it's crazy. Anyways, I'm kind of really tired. Get to bed at a decent time, okay? I'm not going to wake you up in the morning and if you miss out on washing your princess locks, it's your own fault."

"Yeah, yeah, go to bed, grandpa," Sam laughed.

Dean swatted at his shoulder, "'Night, Sammy."

"Goodnight, Dean."


End file.
